


SCP-049

by orphan_account



Series: Are We Cool Yet? [8]
Category: SCP - Containment Breach, SCP Foundation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:35:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27068740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Researcher's POVBefore the breachTrigger warning: surgical tools, blood, etc
Series: Are We Cool Yet? [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1974532
Comments: 1
Kudos: 19





	SCP-049

**Author's Note:**

> Researcher's POV
> 
> Before the breach
> 
> Trigger warning: surgical tools, blood, etc

According to 049's file, his mask has grown in from his skeleton, and his robes from his skin. The x-rays look pretty funky.

We haven't looked into it, because it's 'unethical' or some shit, but after the incident with the late Dr. Hamm, the 05 gave us a go.

They should be here any minute— Ah. SCP-049. The plague doctor. It's accompanied by MTF, two of which drag it forward by the rods attached to its metal collar. Its hands, of course, are chained behind its back.

"It was pretty cooperative until it saw where we were going," one of the MTF comments. Of course. None of the skips seem to like the operation room, not even the little 999.

"You are a doctor, as I am," 049 says, and I realize it's addressing me. "Surely you see there is no need for this."

"You don't even know what I'm planning to do."

"I am not ill. Whatever you are doing here is unwarranted."

I cross my arms. "Unwarranted like the death of Dr. Hamm? Sit down."

"Hamm had the Pestilence. He needed to be cured." The MTF force 049 down into the chair. They carefully unchain its hands, one by one and stretch them to the side where metal restraints are clamped around its wrists. A second pair hold its ankles in place.

"What is this?" It asks. Was that fear, in its metallic voice? That's new. But it can't really be afraid. It is an it, after all.

I snap on my gloves, and I am free to begin. I grab the beak of the doctor's mask and turn it from side to side. It's firmly attached to its face. I motion for one of the nurses to lift his head up, and remove the hood. It has a lot of hair. This is going to get in the way. I chop most of it off until it's at a reasonable length and look around the back of the head and the neck. No elastic, no clasp for the mask. It's attached to the front of the head only. 

Next, I tilt its head up. Some of the skeletal plating has grown on its neck, too, but there's a fine seam under its chin where the mask might be pried at. One hand holding onto the beak to steady its head, I reach for a scalpel.

049 begins to thrash. It isn't liking this taste of its own medicine. My assistants administer a sedative. It would be strong enough to put a human to sleep, but it only seems to make 049 lethargic. It can hardly hold its head up now.

I tilt the chair back until it's flat. 049 watches me coldly. I find the seam again and wiggle the blade of the scalpel into it. 049 gives a feeble whimper, a most uncharacteristic sound for it. I turn the blade and slide it under the mask. There is a small space between the skin and the chitin. Good.

I trade the blade for a drill. 

I make several holes in the mask, all the way around the face. Sometimes I drill a bit too far, and some of the creatures vile black blood stains my gloves. It cries again.

"Hey, I'm at least trying to be gentle. You know what you do with your corpses."

It's true I'm not trying to hurt it. I wouldn't exactly mind if I did, though. I lost my best friend to it, during the last breach.

My anger distracts me a bit, and the drill slips further in. 049 lets out a strangled scream. Shit, we'll have to clean it.

I look at it, and to my surprise the thing is actually crying, crying real tears. Almost as if it were human.

I have a small saw ready. The chitin is too hard to scrape at with a scalpel. I begin by connecting the drilled holes, then turn and saw sideways, across the face. The mask begins to loosen. With a twist and a jerk, I pull it free.

Underneath, it's face looks like a man's. Albeit not a normal man's. What human has black blood and yellow eyes? There are several white stripes, three coming down the forehead and several on the cheeks, all pointing inward. I touch one, and it feels more like bone than skin. The mask must have grown out from these spots.

Looking at it's face, I notice that it's tears are slightly black, too. I take samples, siphoning a little liquid from each eye with a dropper. The nurse places them into a sterile bag.

The robes come off much easier. They have a texture close to skin, and I believe there may be some nerves in them, too, because as we cut and removed them, 049 kept making these little whimpers.

I put several chunks of it in a bag as well. 

Of course, it's skin is very pale underneath. It's veins are especially visible due to the black blood. I crank the chair so it returns to a sitting position, for better blood flow. I task the nurse with taking blood samples.

I toss out my old gloves and attach heavier duty ones. As an extra precaution, I slip on 714, the jade ring, as well.

One of the greatest mysteries of this creature is it's deadly touch. It's gloves are safely in a bag for testing, but I wonder about it's skin. Perhaps it has many tiny venomous hairs, like a jellyfish. I set up several dishes, and cut small chunks from it's hand, stopping after every sample to mop up the blood. I take samples ranging from only the epidermis to pieces with all layers of the skin, to see how deep it's poison goes.

Soon, perhaps, 049 will become and Explained SCP.

Unfortunately, my process is much impeded by the entity itself, which, despite the sedative and the restraints, keeps trying to pull itself free, screaming infernally. 

I finally do finish, though, and I'm rewarded with many things to test. If I can explain 049, perhaps I will be promoted.

The MTF chain its hands again, one of which is heavily bandaged, and clamp on the iron collar. They have to drag it out by the neck, as it hardly has any strength left. We did take a good amount of blood, as many quarts as we dared. After all, we may never be allowed to take more samples.

Nevertheless, I am sure 049 will recover. These anomalies have a nasty habit of bouncing back.


End file.
